Another Self
by Minnie May1
Summary: One rainy Easter day, two lonely fifth-years seek refuge in the library. They both get more than they bargained for.


**Another Self**

**by Minnie May**

_Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, publishers including Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers, Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

***** 

_Alter ipse amicus._

***** 

Rain beat a steady rhythm on the roof of Gryffindor Tower. Somehow, the incessant tapping depressed Lily Evans more than a storm would have. Nothing ever changed--time just beat on toward some climactic day that would never arrive. 

Lily was sitting tailor-style on her four-poster bed, cataloguing her Transfiguration notes for her exams in June. She kept her back to the window, attempting to ignore the dismal weather. Doing homework alone was not her ideal Sunday afternoon activity, but she had few choices. Her best and only friend, Anita, had gone home for Easter holidays, and the only people in the Gryffindor common room were a group of second years playing a particularly loud and obnoxious game of Exploding Snap. The last time Lily had left by the portrait hole, Peeves had sent a suit of armor whizzing in her direction. All in all, she felt safer in her dormitory. 

Lily had already finished alphabetizing her notes by topic, from "Animagi" to "Dishware" to "Incantations" to "Wand Grip and Positions". She was now making an index of cross references. This was the behavior Anita worried about--Anita's Muggle psychoanalyst parents had some special name for it that Lily couldn't remember at the moment. 

"Candlesticks...candlesticks...go with 'Fire,' of course, and 'Household Items'...is a candlestick a weapon?" According to Anita, Lily's habit of talking to herself was another bad sign. Lily decided to ignore this fact and continued muttering to herself as she sifted through piles of parchment and note cards. 

A wrinkled and well-read piece of stationery was stuck between "Peppers--Red, Green, Black, Cayenne" and "Pewter Cauldrons". Petunia's letter. Like a child prodding a bruise to see it if still hurts as much as it did last time, Lily put down her parchment and quill and re-read the letter. 

_Lily~ _

Do not come home for Easter hols this year. Besides the fact that I don't want to ever see you, I also want to bring a friend home and I obviously can't have them meeting my freaky younger sister. Even you wouldn't wish that on me. Besides, neither Mum nor Dad want you there--they told me so. And they'll want to see you even less if I tell them about your little outburst with my mirror last time you were home. 

~Petunia 

Her sister certainly never changed. Direct insults, guilt trips, lies about her parents, outright blackmail--Lily had seen each of Petunia's tactics before. The knowledge that Petunia was immature and merely jealous of Lily's magical abilities should have made Lily feel superior. Even Petunia's bad grammar should have made Lily feel marginally better. But no matter how she tried to explain away or discredit her sister's behavior, it hurt Lily to be the object of a hatred that extended beyond mere sibling rivalry. 

Lily wrapped her arms around her knees and took several deep breaths that were intended to be calming. After all, staying at Hogwarts for Easter wasn't so bad. Sure, she felt completely alone, but at least she had time to start preparing for exams. Two months was never really enough time to get ready. And at fifteen and a half, she could handle being away from home for a little longer than expected. It wasn't that important to show her parents the paper she'd been writing, and she could always send her mother's birthday present by owl post. No problem. 

Lily ripped the letter in half several times, but the sound wasn't loud enough to soothe her. She shoved the pieces into the wastebasket, muttered "Incendio," and watched her sister's words burn. After poking the ashes to make sure the dormitory wouldn't burn down in her absence, she left the room and slammed the door behind her. She would rather risk Peeves' pranks than remain in Gryffindor Tower any longer. 

***** 

The collection of Muggle books in the Hogwarts library shared a dark corner with cobwebs and a rather impressive accumulation of dust. Most of the books were Dickens novels, which Lily could only assume were used to show Muggle Studies students the superiority of the wizarding world. She finally settled for a copy of _A Room with a View_ that had been hiding behind _David Copperfield_ and _Great Expectations_. After making sure that Madam Pince was nowhere in sight, Lily sat in one chair, propped her feet on another, and attempted to drown her sorrows in the written word. 

Sometime after Lily had become engrossed enough in her book to have lost track of the time, she heard footsteps entering the library. It was probably dinner time, and someone had been sent to fetch her to the Great Hall for a depressing Easter dinner. The thought of food made her slightly queasy, so she edged down in her seat, hoping to escape notice. 

A tall, lanky boy with disheveled black hair and think-rimmed glasses glanced around and sat down at a table to Lily's left before pulling several leather-bound books out of his bag. James Potter--first-year girl magnet, future Head Boy, and Quidditch sensation. 

Lily felt her cheeks grow warm. Her conversations with James were generally limited to "Did you catch the Charms homework?" and "How exactly do you skin a shrivelfig?" She was the loner who did research for fun; he was always surrounded by some group of people, be it the Gryffindor Quidditch team, his three best friends, or a crowd of giggling eleven-year-old girls. She'd given up hoping for a Head Boy/Head Girl relationship to develop--there was just no reason for it to do so. 

Having determined that James was not there to drag her off to the Great Hall, Lily decided it was safe to sit up in her chair. Unfortunately, her knee hit the heavy wooden table in the process, and the loud thump was followed by a yelp of pain and a curse from Lily. 

James's head snapped up. "Are you all right?" he asked, standing up half-way. At Lily's nod, he continued, "I didn't know you were here. I didn't mean to disturb you." He started to gather his books together. 

"Wait, you don't have to leave," Lily said. "There's plenty of room for two of us in here." She gestured widely at the numerous unoccupied tables and chairs. 

James paused, then settled back into his chair and re-opened a book whose title Lily couldn't see clearly. "What are you reading?" he asked, noticing the novel in her hands. "_A Room with a View_." Seeing his puzzled look, she explained, "E. M. Forster. He's a Muggle author." 

"Oh, I forgot you were Muggle-born." He spoke matter-of-factly, but the words were still strange for Lily to hear. Bloodlines were a subject generally avoided in these days, except by the handful of Slytherin students who made rude comments and were quickly shushed by the teachers. Talk of purity of blood made people think about It. Lily hadn't told her parents about It and liked to think about It as little as possible, because she had no clue how to fight It. 

"Why did you stay at school, if you don't mind my asking?" he asked. "Most people from Muggle families like to go home for the holidays." 

Lily bit her lip, wondering how much to tell him. She had no right or desire to dump her problems into his lap and expect him to pity her, but there was no reason she couldn't be honest with him. If he could forget that she was Muggle-born and talk about bloodlines so casually, as if they really didn't matter at all, he had to be a decent guy. 

"My sister's having friends over. She doesn't want me there." An understatement, but still the truth. 

"And you went along with her?" James asked, somewhat incredulously. 

Lily let out a humourless laugh. "You don't know Petunia." He also didn't know what it was like to live in a world where magic was not the norm, where people were locked up for believing in wizards, where people stared if someone accidentally made a mirror fly across the room. She drummed her fingers on the table. "What about you? Why did you stay?" 

James looked away from her. "My parents are...busy. Working." 

To judge from James's tone and the slump of his shoulders, "working" most likely meant that the Potters were out risking their lives against It. Lily felt a wave of gratitude followed by the familiar wave of helplessness that she hated so much. 

"I hope they're all right," she said after a brief pause. 

"Oh, they'll be fine," he told her, obviously trying to reassure himself. "They'll be fine." His eyes were focused on the ceiling. 

Deeming it best to change the subject before James lost himself in gruesome visions about what could be happening to his parents or Lily started pounding her fist on the table with the sheer frustration of being able to do nothing against the Dark forces gaining power outside of the castle, Lily seized upon a safe topic. 

"What are you reading?" 

James snapped out of his reverie, looking rather grateful. He held up his book so she could see the title--_Animagi in Theory and Practice_. 

"Do you like Transfiguration, then?" she asked. She wondered briefly what exactly was wrong with her today. Lily Evans did not initiate conversations, nor did she try so hard to keep them going. But how could she just leave James to his own depressing thoughts, especially when she had brought up the subject in the first place? 

"Yes, actually," he answered. "Especially the larger-scale things we're doing now. Turning inanimate objects into animals and back again always made me a bit nervous." 

Lily leaned forward--it was just possible that she was about to find a kindred spirit. "Really? Why is that?" 

"Well, it's going to sound stupid, but it just doesn't seem right to give things life and then take it away again. I mean, we have no idea how the process affects them." He gave her a half-grin. "It's stupid, I know." 

"No! It's not stupid at all," Lily said excitedly. "I've been working on a paper about it—you know, for the _British Journal of Wizardry_, even though they'll never take it. 'The Ethics of Animal Transfiguration.' I thought it might bother me because I didn't grow up around magic--I haven't seen any full-blooded wizards"--there, if he could talk about it, so could she--"that seemed bothered by the fact that we're taking something biotic and turning it into something abiotic." 

James looked as if he wasn't sure whether to be impressed by her ambition and dedication or sorry that she had so much time to devote to the subject. "I haven't met many wizards or witches with that view, either," he admitted, "but my friend Remus--Remus Lupin, you know him--tried to get me to see it through the animal's eyes." 

"Hmm. I'll have to talk to him sometime." 

James looked down for a moment, then turned back to his book. Lily did the same, thinking, It's his turn now. Lily Evans has taken enough risks today. 

As the silence lengthened, Lily began to regret her passive attitude. _How would Petunia deal with this situation?_ Lily shuddered at the thought. She refused to act like Petunia, even if licking her lips and making racy innuendos would catch James Potter's attention. _Anita?_ No, Anita was no more romantically adept than Lily. _What about those first-year girls? How would they act?_ Lily shook her head. She didn't think she could bring herself to giggle or bat her eyelashes. 

It looked like Lily was stuck being herself. 

"Do you know how old this library is?" she blurted out. She mentally smacked her forehead. _Smooth, Evans. Smooth._

James looked up from his book, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. "Nine hundred and eighty-four years. Why?" 

There was no reasonable answer to that question. "I was just wondering…if you were interested in the history of Hogwarts," she finished hurriedly. _Nice save._

James sat up a bit straighter. "Of course. Just look at this place! To think that wizards had spells that were advanced enough to build in a few years a castle that would have taken Muggles centuries…" He bit his lip. "No offense. I mean, Muggles had lots of--" 

"It's okay," Lily told him, trying not to laugh. It was reassuring to know that even James Potter could make a blunder. 

"Erm. Right." James adjusted his glasses. "But this place is so complex; we can't know how they managed it all. Even if you ignore the supposed Chamber of Secrets, there are still all the staircases, and all the large windows that Muggles didn't start using until hundreds of years after Hogwarts was built, and the passages from--" He stopped short. 

Lily furrowed her brow. "Like the passageway from the crone statue out to Hogsmeade?" 

James's jaw dropped slightly. "What?" he finally managed to choke out. 

Lily sat down in the chair next to James, ostensibly (she hoped) so no one would hear their conversation. "You're not the only one who likes history." She grinned. "And you can't research the history of the castle without _some_ field work, can you?" 

James still hadn't recovered from his shock. "No, indeed." 

"Of course, I've never actually _used_ it. I was just curious to see where it went," she hastened to reassure him. Although she doubted that James's knowledge of the passages was entirely due to his fascination with architecture... 

"Curiosity killed the cat," James said, holding Lily's gaze. She found it a bit unsettling. 

"Was that a threat?" 

"No, but--be careful. Not all of those passages are safe--and not everything at the ends of those passages is safe." He adjusted his glasses, although they needed no adjusting. "I don't want you to get hurt." 

Lily looked down at her shoes. "I should say the same to you, then. I don't want you to get hurt." _Is this considered flirting?_ she wondered. _Or does that involve physical contact?_

James turned to her. "Lily, can--" 

With a bang, the library shelves holding books on magical creatures smashed to the floor. Peeves cackled at his handiwork and somersaulted on his way to the next row of shelves waiting to be tipped over. 

"Peeves," James called. "What are you doing up here?" 

"Why aren't the little studentsies at the feast? Filchie-Wilchie will be angry when he sees the studentsies in the library with such a mess," Peeves told them, delighted. 

"If you don't leave now, Peeves, I'll get the Bloody Baron," Lily warned. It was an empty threat, but Peeves zipped out of the library, singing a lewd drinking song at the top of his lungs. 

James sighed. "He's right. We'd better get out of here." 

Lily nodded, cursing Peeves with every fiber of her being. "Right." She grabbed her book and shifted from foot to foot while James gathered his belongings. James adjusted his glasses and met Lily's eyes. 

Then Lily did something that never would have occurred to her up to this point--she grabbed James Potter by the collar of his robes and pressed her lips to his. 

There were no stars or fireworks, only a steady stream of warmth that wrapped around her. James was her mother's hug before she left for school each year and her father's kiss on top of her head when she was sick and Anita's burst of laughter when Lily made a joke in the Common Room--but nothing of Petunia's. Her sister's petty cruelty had no place in this moment with James, and Lily was glad. 

When they pulled apart, Lily met James's eyes, hoping against hope that kissing had felt as right for him as it did for her. James adjusted his glasses, which had come askew. Then he stared at Lily...and stared...and stared. 

"For the love of God, say something," Lily said, trying to keep her voice light. This was the reason she didn't generally go around kissing people. She wasn't just putting herself at risk of rejection; she was practically begging for it. 

But James Potter was full of surprises. He smiled and kissed Lily lightly on the lips, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the door. 

"Where are we going?" Lily asked, quelling visions of various broom closets in the castle. There was no use getting her hopes too high--not yet, anyway. 

"Well, it's at least partly my fault that you missed the Easter feast," he told her as they left the library. "It's not the first time a girl has been carried away by my dazzling conversational skills." He winked at her. "The least I can do is to get you some food from the kitchens." He slowed his pace and focused on a point somewhere to Lily's right. "And maybe we could--could eat together. You know, up in the Common Room. And talk. I mean, if you don't have anything else to do." 

Lily thought of the compulsively organized notes stacked on her bed and the night she was planning to spend studying subjects she already knew backwards and forwards. She looped her arms through James's. "I'd love to." 

James finally met her eyes and grinned, absent-mindedly trying to flatten his untidy hair. Lily was surprised that she had the power to make someone so happy just by agreeing to eat dinner with him--rather like James's power to make her forget about her loneliness just by sitting down to talk to her. Perhaps the two of them were better suited for each other than she had dared to hope. 

That evening, Lily Evans and James Potter stole down to the kitchens together for the first but not the last time during their years at Hogwarts. 

***** 

That night, Lily lay in bed, once again listening to the rain tapping on the roof of Gryffindor Tower. The rain hadn't let up all day, but it no longer grated on Lily's nerves like it had that afternoon. Actually, the steady rhythm was rather soothing. Lily's mother and father might be listening to the rain in the same way that Lily was. If it was raining in London, Anita was probably doing the same thing. 

And so was a certain someone in the dormitory down the hall, who just might be lying in bed wondering if Lily, too, was listening to the rain. 


End file.
